Ascension

only a few scuffs and scrapes from the incident. He examined the top of the pack and slowly loosened the straps holding it closed. With some trepidation he gently lifted the top of the heavy material and stared inside the bag. He started laughing. His mirth got the better of him and he sat down hard upon his body armor, still clutching the bomb in both hands.

When he finally regained his composure he sat the bag on the ground and started pulling the items out of the top compartment. Inside was a small metal box lined with closed cell blue foam, the box fit inside the bag precisely. Stacked inside this container were cans of beer. At the very bottom of this compartment was a sacks and what looked like an ordinary brick, Ruben pulled both of them out. He pulled open the drawstrings on the sack and opened it up to see that it was filled with sand.

'Shit. We've been carrying this forty pound bag around with us and it's full of beer and sand?' This was not quite true, the bottom of the bag was a separate compartment entirely, 'So if I open that I'll find, what? Two liters of whisky?'

'Just the bomb, Ruben. Leave it alone.'

'So it works then?'

'Yes. It has once already.' the voices whispered in his head.

'Why the extra weight?'

'Psychological, if it weighs more soldiers think it works better.'

'Really?' the voices didn't answer and Ruben hadn't thought they would; they didn't tend to speak if he questioned what they had already told him.

Ruben cracked one of the beers; it was lukewarm but otherwise tasted fine. He finished off the can, packed his fatigue jacket into the top of the pack along with a couple of the remaining beers and pulled on the windbreaker. The wind was picking up and he appreciated the lighter covering. 'I don't even have a gun.' No one answered, but Ruben kept thinking out loud, 'I can nuke you back to the stone-age or run or maybe knife you. But not shoot you.'

Shrugging Ruben lifted the pack up and headed down the alley, the voices didn't tell him which way to go so he guessed he was doing okay on his own. When he reached the street he looked both ways and saw a bright blue Nissan Leaf parked on the street. Sighing, he reached into his new pockets and his hands touched a key ring. As he walked to the car he pulled the keys out and heard the doors unlock when he was a couple feet away.

'Not even a proper key, just this fob thingy. Give me a good set of keys any day.' Ruben climbed into the car and put the backpack in the front passenger's seat. Looking over the dash he didn't see how to turn the car on. There wasn't anywhere to put the key fob into, like a normal key would have. There was just a button where a key would normally be inserted into the ignition. Cautiously he pressed the button and an amber ring around its edge glowed softly. With another sigh, he tucked the fob back into his pocket.

'It is on? No fricking way to tell I guess.' The car looked like an automatic style with just a simple shifter to switch from park to drive. Ruben pulled the stick to 'D' and was startled when a soft voice chided him to put his seatbelt on.

'Today, we risk it.' he said out loud.

Pressing on the gas pedal, the car silently moved forward. 'This,' thought Ruben, 'isn't nearly so bad as I thought. I wonder if I should even think of it as a 'gas' pedal? It's not gas powered. So quiet, like riding a bike, only with no effort. Maybe those tree huggers have something after all.'

He had no idea where he was supposed to end up, so he turned to the east. He was pretty sure wherever he needed to be was east of here. He drove on for a little while keeping to a sensible, low speed on the side streets and pointing the car towards the ever darkening sky to the east.

'Right, then the next left.'

Ruben did as instructed, muttering a brief prayer as he did so. Up ahead was a Wal-mart. It looked looted and dark.

'Pull into the drive of the yellow house on the corner. It's empty, go inside. Open the garage door manually, put the car in the garage.'

'Well, this is new.' Ruben thought. He found himself to be a little let down at the idea of leaving the car, it had been a smooth ride. Once he was through parking and had the garage door down again he stood in the house, looking around the open kitchen dining room and wondering what he was supposed to do next.

There were some maps on the island, he shuffled through them and spotted one that had been written on with a blue pen. He brought the map over to the front window so he could look out at the street sign; sure enough there was a trail from this house that ended in a circled block some distance away. 'How many blocks in a mile?' he asked out loud while counting the streets between where he was and the circle on the map. 'Twenty blocks, that's gotta only be a mile or so.'

The Lord worked in mysterious ways and Ruben didn't want to take advantage of his angels to ask questions when he could figure out the answers for himself. They had brought him here to find the map; he could take it from here. He examined the map closely, memorizing the street names and details before folding it carefully and tucking it into the deep pockets of his pants. Ruben picked up the pack with his bomb and started walking.

Chapter 37 — Max

Pain. Max's life had devolved to a single, black and red existence of pain. When the car careened over the open space where the road should have been Max had just about wet his pants. Somewhere in the split second before the impact he made the decision to be found dead and dry, instead of with urine soaked pants. Only he didn't die. Beside him Stewart moaned and flailed about with her hands.

'I'm stuck.' Max tried to pull himself free from the wreckage. He was strapped in and upside down, the airbag had deployed into his face and blood was dripping down onto the ceiling of the car. As he fumbled with his seat belt he could hear yelling from somewhere nearby. 'Oh, thank God, Bill must have stopped in time and he is coming to help us.'

Two gunshots sounded in close succession followed by another yell. Max finally hit the release on his seat belt and tumbled to the ceiling of the car. 'I don't think anything is broken. That's a fucking miracle.' The top of the car had been squashed in the impact and Max could barely stay on his hands and knees as he tried to reach Stewart. Finally, he hit the button and she dropped heavily into his arms. Her eyes fluttered and she reached for him awkwardly with one arm. Her hand was hanging limply and it looked like she had an extra joint between the elbow and wrist.

'Max.' Stewart said.

'I got ya. Just hang on a second and let me pull you out of here.'

'Max. Listen to me. Pull my arm straight.'

'What?'

'You gotta pull my arm straight, I can feel my body trying to fix it, but like that other zombie, I think it might heal bad unless you get it straight.'

Max looked at Stewart, she hadn't fared any better in the accident than he had, her nose was bloody and she was sporting two rapidly blackening eyes. Keeping his eyes on her, Max gave her arm a sudden jerk.

'Fuck! You coulda pulled it slowly, it's not like it was dislocated!' Stewart said, falling back and cradling one arm with the other.

'Sorry, Jane! I thought…' Max stopped and his body jerked convulsively.

Stewart looked up at him for a moment before he fell over her legs, unconscious. Behind him was a dark haired man in a police uniform, the prongs from a Taser still in his hand, with wires leading to a spot on Max's leg.

'Fuck me.'

'No, not unless we're told to. And you wouldn't like that.' The man grabbed Max by both of his legs and